


Before the Memories Tear Us into Pieces

by ajremix



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 20:32:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1701587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajremix/pseuds/ajremix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title from Emily Bindiger's Vanity.  A ghost haunts South's mind and it's not her brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the Memories Tear Us into Pieces

South woke up to the fleeting memories of a nightmare. It wasn't surprising- all Freelancer agents had nightmares of some sort, from mistakes in the field to near-death experiences to watching others die in front of them. Nightmares weren't uncommon for South, either, but what had made this one so unnerving was the fact she was pretty certain it wasn't one of hers.

[Your heart rate is elevated,] Delta pointed out needlessly. [Is there something I can assist you with?]

"No," she told the AI shortly. "It's nothing."

~*~*~*~

She had nightmares every night these days. Some days were so bad she had to get by with catnaps snatched throughout the day. Delta warned her constantly about her fatigue and how it affected her performance. She told him to shut up and just wake her when she commanded him to. After a while Delta stopped attempting to advise her.

South sighed in relief.

~*~*~*~

Another nightmare shot South out of the first restful sleep she'd had in a week. She still didn't know what it was about but she knew it had to do with despair, guilt, aimless anger and a crushing insignificance. It also left a name on her lips that wasn't her brother's- not the one given to him at birth or the one given with a suit of armor. But she knew that name and she knew whose nightmares she was having.

South's throat felt raw and she was biting back tears that didn't belong to her. "Delta."

[Yes, Agent South?]

"What are you doing?"

[Please specify query.]

She rubbed her hands over her face. "Why are you giving me York's memories?"

[I am incapable of recording my hosts' memories.]

" _Then what are you doing_?"

[I am defragmenting to ensure optimal performance and storage. Upon York's request, I do so when he- and subsequently you –are asleep in order to avoid unnecessary confusion or strain.]

There was a brief moment when a cold shiver ran up South's back. It was difficult enough having to remember North's death and her own part in it, but the idea of having a dead man's AI- a dead man she had known and interacted with on a fairly regular basis –sharing space in her own head almost seemed like she was carrying around the shard of a ghost. She locked the thought away and asked, "Defragmenting- you mean like files and stuff? Your own memory?"

[To put it simply. Yes.]

"Then it's _your_ memories I'm dreaming about?"

There was a moment of silence and when Delta spoke again, he sounded almost sorry. [I apologize, I did not realize it would disturb you. York never made any mention of it.]

South wasn't certain how she felt about that, about feeling Delta's memories of being inside York's head. She took a breath and reclined. "Don't do that anymore."

[Do not do what?]

"Defragment in my sleep."

There was another pause and that time Delta spoke slowly, almost rebuking. [It is necessary for me to defragment on a regular basis.]

"Does it have to be _daily_?"

[For optimal performance-]

"Well, what about weekly?" Her voice was sharp and a little desperate and she didn't know how York could have dealt with those dreams. Or perhaps he could because they were essentially his thoughts as well. She wondered if North ever had that problem with Theta, what kind of nightmares Theta would have given him. She forced herself to stop thinking about it.

[That is possible. However, the defragmentation process will take longer to complete.]

"Fine. Whatever. And not in my sleep. I don't need your memories messing with my dreams."

[Very well,] Delta said in a very final tone of voice, his presence pulling away from the forefront of her mind.

~*~*~*~

The first time Delta defragmented when South was awake he warned her. She was forced to sit for an hour as she felt bits of the AI shifting around in her head, sending random flashes of thought rippling about her brain, triggering memories of her own. For a brief moment South thought she'd be sick from how full her head felt.

The worst were the ones that felt like her emotions were being torn apart, as if she'd never be happy or whole again, as if her heart was just decaying in her chest. Those triggered South's own memories of Carolina, each one now accompanied by a love that didn't belong to her, the depths of which she had never known even existed. They also triggered memories of other agents, of York speaking to them, trying to keep them together- trying to make Tex take some responsibility for the team, trying to keep CT from withdrawing from everyone or Wyoming from taking advantage of those falling apart, trying to ease Maine's frustration, North's growing over protectiveness, South's shortening temper, trying to keep Wash anchored to reality. And it was all filtered through the jarring logic of Delta as a passive observer, trying to make York stop trying so hard for everyone and spreading himself so thin that he could barely take care of himself.

It triggered the memory of South standing over North's body and thinking _I did that_.

Afterward Delta asked her, [Are you certain you wish me to continue defragmenting while you're conscious?]

If she had her way, she'd never have to deal with the process again, but she wasn't going to let her AI run into disrepair now that she finally had one. She forced herself to her feet. "Yes."

Delta did not ask again.

~*~*~*~

After six or seven days between defrags South found that odd thoughts would occasionally wander into her consciousness. They would be quick, fleeting things- memories of emotions or sensations, lost moments of the sun slanting just so or the wind sounding like notes of a forgotten melody. All she really knew was that they belonged to Delta and it felt more like she was sharing headspace with Delta's memories of York than with the AI itself. Sometimes she could hear the man humming in her ear, or a spike of his curiosity as she passed by something odd.

Whenever South made a decision, whenever Delta made a suggestion and she shot him down, shut him up, a memory of York would leak out and it felt like she was in competition all over again- against a dead man, against someone she rarely felt the need to measure up to. And yet there was Delta, comparing her to him and she could feel herself falling short in the AI's opinion _every. Damn. Time._ By the end of the month, she had had enough.

" _Stop it_." She snarled, wishing not for the first time the AI was tangible so she could hit it.

[Please specify order.]

"Stop comparing me to York!"

[I'm afraid that is an impossible request. It is part of logic. Comparing an unknown entity to a known entity facilitates the understanding process. By comparing your actions and reactions to those of York's, I am better able to anticipate-"

" _What_? Anticipate _what_?" Her strides ate up angry ground, quick and accusing. She'd spent her entire life being compared to her brother and now it was happening all over again: the inadequacies, the failures, being set to someone else's standard because her own wasn't good enough, was _never_ good enough, no matter how hard she worked, no matter how hard she struggled she was always overlooked by people like North and York who practically had everything _handed_ to them-

Delta's presence was like a cold sheet of reinforced steel, impenetrable and unyielding. [I assure you that nothing was simply 'handed' to York. I would assume the same of your brother.]

"What do you know? You didn't know North and you don't know me!"

[You have refused to allow me access to your memories.]

"Because you don't need them!"

[York did not keep secrets from me. He felt our partnership would benefit if-]

South punched at a boulder, feeling the rock split beneath her fist. " _I'm not York_. Get used to it."

The AI drew itself in until it was a concentrated ball, a marble of ice that stung at South's awareness if she got too close. [No.] It said with finality. [You're not.]


End file.
